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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25876891">The Mummers' Farce</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Melody_Pond/pseuds/River_Melody_Pond'>River_Melody_Pond</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gone Wrong..., Modern Westeros, Professional Rivalry, elements of toxicity, for the sake of appearances, heartbreak and angst, it will be bad before it gets better</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:47:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25876891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Melody_Pond/pseuds/River_Melody_Pond</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime Lannister's interference in his girlfriend's career causes their relationship to spiral out of control. He had only meant to be the wind beneath her wings, but Brienne Tarth perceives his help as a shameful charity. Once the can is forced open, the worms come pouring out... </p>
<p>A day of joy and celebration turns into one of separation. It does not last- for social commitments twist their hands into maintaining a fake relationship for the sake of appearances...</p>
<p>...from there on, it is all a study of 'what if Jaime and Brienne brought out the worst in each other'.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Mummers' Farce</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! Here's a little story I came up with a very long time ago, for an entirely different pairing. One sleepless night it dawned on me that I could refashion it into a very interesting Braime narrative. I don't want to give much away, but it's safe to say this is a fake dating fic... with a twist. The themes explored in this story will fall in the darker side of the spectrum- and with this, consider yourselves warned!</p><p>Happy reading and don't hate me too much! Xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Jaime stormed into the flat slamming the door behind him in all his might. The vein on his temple throbbed furiously, as his blood boiled in anger. <em>How dared she!? How dared she humiliate him in front of so many cameras? In front of so many reporters? Of their colleagues!– of his freaking father and fucking Cersei! What in the Seven Hells was wrong with that woman lately? Did she really not know when to stop with her nonsense? </em>He entered the bedroom kicking the door open.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s got no limits– no limits!” He growled to himself while rushing to the walk-in dressing. “Fine! Be it your way! I’ve heard you, alright– I’ve fucking heard you this time, Brienne!” Jaime had tried to disregard her outbursts and accusations for time and time again, but he could no longer ignore her words. She’s made her opinion clear before the whole of Westeros, leaving him no choice but to believe <em>that</em> was truly the way in which she perceived him and their relationship.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching for his carry-on, Jaime unzipped it and threw in some jeans and shirts. At first, he saw nothing but red before his eyes, but then a pair of her shoes caught his attention. The golden high heels he had asked her to wear at the premiere were still on the dressing’s floor, where she had thrown them in a fit of rage earlier that day. <em>“And you've got the nerve to call my sister a diva! Fucking wench!” </em>Jaime kicked one of the shoes so hard that it flew all the way out of there, stopping with a startling bang on the bed’s wooden frame, or the nightstand, or the cabinet… </p><p> </p><p>His green eyes burned like wildfire as he lifted his head and looked around. More than two-thirds of his closet space was filled with her stuff. The realisation made him go insane.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing serious? We’re nothing serious? You fucking live in my house!” The need to ravish her clothes– and not in the way she pretended to like– built up from the pits of his stomach. Before he could stop himself, Jaime started throwing all her possessions on the floor, emptying his shelves and hangers of her dresses and shirts and jeans and jumpsuits and skirts and whatever bloody hells she had in there. <em>Mad! She is mad! </em>Jaime did not stop until he could no longer see the floor– until nothing but his own clothes and his clothes alone remained in place.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching for his red leather jacket, Jaime threw it in the carry-on and closed it up. Stepping on the carpet of her clothes, he moved to leave the dressing and the bedroom– but just then the apartment’s door slammed once again.</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime!” She called out for him and he clenched his teeth, readying himself for another round.</p><p> </p><p>They met in the hallway and she was short of breath– probably from having run up the 14 flights of stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. Almost immediately, her splendid blue eyes dropped on the suitcase in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“What–” Brienne whispered for a moment, before regaining her voice. “What are you doing? Put that down, Jaime! Put it down, now!”</p><p> </p><p>“Just get out of my way, wench!” He hissed viciously.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re drunk! You can barely stand! Where do you think you’re going? What was in your head to leave the party like that and to <em>drive</em> in the deplorable state you’re in? Are you out of all wits!?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Brienne! I am fucking insane– and immature– and irresponsible– a douchebag! A player! Someone who just fucks you for sport! Oh, please– please, my darling!” He spat the word with such contempt that it sounded like an insult. “I beg of you– do tell me again how I don’t care, how we’re nothing serious. I simply cannot get enough of your opinion about us!”   </p><p> </p><p>Brienne shook her head, anger melting away, and moved towards him. He moved back. “Jaime– please…” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and her voice began to tremble. “I am sorry, my love– I am sorry! They were just words– it’s not what I think of us! I did not mean it that way…”</p><p> </p><p>Jaime frowned for a short second, then his lips curved into a playful smile. “Really, <em>love</em>, words?” He bit his tongue between his front teeth, the tip of it out where she could see it. His emerald eyes looked her up and down and down and up again. “Words… So let me get it straight– when you giggled to the reporter, saying how you will not marry me because we are <em>nothing serious</em>… did you mean all that in a nice way?”</p><p> </p><p>Brienne closed her eyes and a couple of drops rolled down her cheeks. “I did not mean it in any way, Jaime… it was just a poor attempt at being cheeky with a disrespectful question! It is not real– love, you must know those were only meaningless words meant for people who are nothing to us!”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut! Up! With! The! Lies!– Brienne!” He roared so loudly the whole apartment seemed to shake. Startled by the intensity of his anger, it was her turn to take a couple steps back. She swallowed hard, before tentatively opening her mouth to say something. He shook his head in warning and she closed her mouth, biting her lips to keep them shut. When he spoke again, his rage seemed to have dimmed, but the bitterness had not left his tone. “Words– words are once, twice, three times… even four! But you repeat them all the bloody time. You've put me through hell this past year! I am so fucking tired of your insecurities. I am so tired of your distrust– of your delusions. Words, Brienne? You wanted to be cheeky– ‘meaningless words for people who are nothing to us’…” Jaime sighed. “How can you even say that when you repeated the same shit to Sansa and Margaery at the after-party? I was right there– Gods’ damn it! I was right there– one meter away, talking with my father and sister. We all heard you loud and clear! Can you even begin to imagine the utter disgust on my father’s face– the pure pleasure on Cersei’s?” Brienne gulped and Jaime shook his head. “Get out of my way right now– we’re done.”</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>Brienne did not move– paralysed. She could barely stop herself from bursting into loud and ugly sobs as the day flashed before her eyes…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She looked in the large mirror, taking in her horrible reflection. It all looked so wrong! With a deep sigh, Brienne turned to one side, then to the other, turned around to see her back, and then twirled again to analyse the front. Even in a simple black gown– the simplest, really, boring taffeta, corseted A-line and nothing else– she still looked like a man in drag. She wanted to cry! This day was a nightmare– she couldn’t have looked worse if she wore a potato bag.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Stunning!” Jaime gasped leaning on the framework of their bedroom’s door, half-eaten apple in hand. She looked at him through the mirror. “My love– you look simply ravishing!” Brienne rolled her eyes, for he lied, as he always did.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jaime let the apple fall. With feline-like moves, he walked to her and wrapped his arms around her middle from behind. “Little black dress with a corset– delicious…” He moaned pressing his lips on her back and trailing kisses to her bare shoulder. He went left– he was always going left towards the ugly burn scars on her neck and shoulder. “So tight on you it makes me want to count your ribs– with my tongue– over the fabric… I could lick it wet… dripping wet!” And with that he passed his tongue all the way up her neck, making her shiver and turning her knees weak. “Lovely wench of mine–” He purred into her ear, hands running down her middle and slowly, slowly pulling up the long skirts of her horrible gown. “Let me fuck you a little– just a little-little– in this black dress of yours. I will be quick, I swear– we won’t be late…”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Jaime…” She sighed, slapping away the hand which was already pulling at the lace of her underpants. “Stop it, will you? You cannot solve everything with sex.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Try telling that to my hard cock.” He laughed and tried to lower her underpants again.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Jaime!” Brienne hissed angrily, pushing him off her with a swift kick of her ass. He only laughed. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Baby– you don’t have to tease this badly. I am already sold!” He cupped her butt-cheeks and squeezed them hard.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” She raged threateningly enough for him to snap out of his state of delusion. “Not every time I am sad you can fuck me and make it better, alright? Some things cannot be fixed!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re sad again!?” Jaime gasped with a frown, searching her gaze in the mirror. “What on the earth are you sad about, Brienne?” He was so oblivious she could not believe her ears. But there was no time for that– so she only rolled her eyes at him and dismissingly fluttered a hand about. “Love–” Her boyfriend was not one to give up. Reaching for her arm, Jaime turned her around to face him. “Today is a big day– your big day! You'll see I am right– everything will change! The only way from here is up! Today is the beginning of a new era for you…”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Really, Jaime?” Crying was about the worst thing she could do for her appearance, yet she could not help it. “This is <span class="u">my</span> day? Today's a bloody farce!”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jaime shook his head firmly. “No– no– no, Brienne! Not this again! Are you serious? Stop it with the eyes– just stop it right now.” It only made her cry harder. Covering her face with both hands, Brienne sat down on the edge of their bed. “Brie!” Jaime pleaded, lowering himself before her and reaching to remove her hands so he could look into her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, love? You're a brilliant actor! You deserved this opportunity! Own it!”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Piss off!” She cried. “You're an actor, Jaime! I am a mummer! The only reason why I got this part is that I fuck the lead- it had nothing to do with me or my acting skills.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Brienne, I cannot go through this again– there's only that many ways in which a man can tell you how incredibly wrong you are! And I have used them all by now... </em>
  <em>I don’t get it– honestly– I do not!” He sounded so hopeless.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“And then, there's also the dress…” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“What is wrong with the dress?” Judging by his deep sigh, Jaime was reaching the limits of his patience with her. “What is wrong with the way you look in it– it fits perfectly– actually, wait. I have just what you lack–”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “A career?” She whispered unable to control her tongue, just as Jaime sprang to his feet. For a second, he blinked dumbstruck– but somehow he found it within to ignore her bitter remark and trailed towards their walk-in dressing without dignifying her outburst of professional jealousy with an answer. </em>
  <em>All she could do was sigh and wipe away her tears.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He did not get it– he said– of course he did not! How could a man like him understand what a woman like her was going through? Only she and the Gods knew how hard he tried to see where her issues were coming from- and for it, Brienne was thankful beyond words. But at the end of the day, when everything else was unpacked and talked about, the root of all heartbreak remained incomprehensible to him... beauty, or rather the lack of it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Jaime Lannister– her boyfriend of three years and best friend of six before that– was the most splendid creation of the Gods. He was tall and slender, yet he had worked his body until his muscles looked as sculpted from marble. His legs were long, his shoulders strong, and his stomach flatter than the line where the seas met the skies. His head was that of a king of olds– elegant features, graceful lines, high cheekbones, small pursed lips, a perfect straight-edged nose, a profile designed for the highest currency. His hair was more golden than gold itself! His eyes the greenest green flecked with gold… Beautiful– he was so breathtakingly beautiful that the Maiden herself would have spread her legs for him. What in the name of sanity he was doing with someone like her remained– more or less– a mystery.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>By no standards was she a good-looking woman– but at his arm, she redefined the meaning of ‘ugly’! Taller than him, bigger than him, broader than him– no breasts, no arse, no waist, thick thighs. Her head was too small for her body, yet everything on it was too large for her face– her nose, her lips, her teeth. Even the eyes– her one redeeming quality– were too big… too blue… too much!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She closed them in painful resignation. She had hoped that time would teach her to respect herself and her body more. But Brienne was in her 31<sup>st</sup> year of life and it was worse than it had ever been… for her career was stalled by the way she looked.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>What had once been her passion, her secret– her safe place– was now the source and cause of all anguish and conflicts. She did not belong in the glittering world of television and cinematography– Brienne should have guessed they wouldn’t have her in there...</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Here!” Jaime exclaimed as if proud of himself, startling Brienne from her thoughts. Returning to the room, he presented her with a pair of golden high– very high– heels. “Put them on!– they’ll compliment your little black dress beyond perfection and!– I know exactly what necklace of pure gold to have my father take out from our vaults for you to wear tonight.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Is this a joke?” Brienne stared at the high heels unable to blink. “I am already so much taller than you. Are you trying to mock me?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jaime sighed and shook his head in disapproval. “Why are you doing this to yourself?– to us? Why are you so wound up and determined to start a fight when we could have been happily fucking right about now? You could have been bent over that cabinet and I could have taken you hard and rough from behind, erasing all your insecurities one thrust at a time… all while being utmost careful not to ruin your little black dr–”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>In a fit of rage, Brienne threw the high heels all the way back to the dressing’s floor. “First of all–” She hissed standing up from the edge of the bed to outmatch his height. “This is not a little black dress– it’s an evening gown! They're different attires, for different events. Second of all– I would never wear any of your family’s gold, for gold is not only too much, but also out of fashion. And lastly, these high heels would not compliment my dress in any way, they would only make me look worse than–”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Wow!” Jaime cut her short with a high-pitched exclamation. “Have you finally succumbed to your deepest fantasy and killed Cersei– chopped up her body and started eating bits of it for lunch?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Get out!” Brienne’s last threads of self-control vanished upon being compared to Jaime’s horrible twin. She pushed him by the chest towards the door. “And take that back!”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He laughed catching her wrists. “Sure thing, sweetling– keep up this attitude, it will definitely make me eat up my words.” Sliding away from her, Jaime walked to their dressing. “I’ll take my suit and get dressed in the guest bedroom. Wear whatever the hells you want, I couldn’t care less– but be at the door in twenty minutes or I swear you’re taking a cab to Casterly.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>In the end, she did not change her gown, but she didn’t wear the heels either. When she left the safe haven of their flat, she looked like someone going to their death and not like someone on their way to celebrate a year’s worth of hard work and dedication.  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Brienne could not remember the last time she had felt so out of touch with her inner self, so full of self-hatred and void of self-esteem.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She could not even act her way out of her horrible mood... And her whole life she had loved to act– to play pretend, as she used to call it once…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>When she had been a little girl, she spent her days doing just that– pretending. At first, she pretended her mother and brother were still alive and her father was still a happy man…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Then she began pretending the Septa hired to raise her was not a bad woman. That did not last long– no matter how much she tried to fool herself, she could not paint her abuser in rosé colours. For years with no end, her Septa had made Brienne feel ashamed with who she was, with how she looked. The woman had hated her with a passion for the sin of not being pretty like other children were. She considered it a personal offense to be seen walking the monstrous little girl in the park– yet the money was good, so she dared not leave. Instead she took her vindication by applying physical corrections– a little pinch here, a little ear pulling there, a slap over the back, a belt over the ass. The Septa always said it was what she deserved for being ugly and for making no effort to change it in the least. Her methods taught Brienne it was not good to be who she was– so the girl pretended to be someone else… someone beautiful… for beauty was the key to love and acceptance…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Once or twice along the years, she had considered telling her father the truth about Septa Roelle. He loved her dearly after all, but he was a busy man– away for work three weeks out of four. The Septa took advantage of this to paint Brienne as a problematic child before her father– ‘she gets into fights at school’, ‘she’s temperamental’, ‘she cannot control her anger’, ‘she acts like a boy’, ‘she does not want to study’, ‘oh, I don’t know what will come of the child, Mr. Selwyn’… Her father worried, but Brienne pretended all was well. She pretended she had a happy life. She pretended she was not a disappointment. She pretended she could go on. By the time she could no longer pretend and gathered enough courage to confess the truth to her father, she was already 13. The damage had been long done…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Her father not only fired the Septa, but also took legal action against her. He sold their house on Tarth and they moved to Storm’s End for a new beginning. They were comfortable enough for him to work only part-time and dedicate himself to her– at last. Most of the time he seemed content– but she knew her confession had made him so guilt-ridden that he was broken inside and miserable. Brienne had caught him praying to the Mother once, begging for her forgiveness for having failed his child. Every day after that, she pretended she had not seen her strong father crying on his knees all because of her.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Pretending to be anything but herself– pretending to live any life but hers– pretending altogether eventually got her into drama. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Brienne kept it to herself all throughout school, never once telling her father to go see her on stage. She was scared he wouldn’t approve of her hobby. She was scared he wouldn’t like her acting. She was scared he’d be embarrassed by how she looked in her costumes… Truth be told, she was simply scared of losing her right at pretending in peace!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She only told him when she applied for Universities. Little wonder that her choice came as a shock to him. She could still hear the concern in his voice. “A drama degree? Are you sure, my starlight? I always thought you wanted to get a degree in history and become a professor!” Brienne smiled at him– she had truly pretended to want that for many years. Her father was skeptical, but let her go to Lannisport all the same…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Over a decade later, she was there still– looking lifelessly out the window as they drove towards Casterly Rock, that massive stone castle which had once belonged to Jaime's family and now served as a museum and as the most exclusivist event location in the whole of Westeros. Rumours had it that business magnate Tywin Lannister was using all his resources to get the castle privatised once more.  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Brienne did not care much for Casterly, but she loved Lannisport… Her university experience there had been a bliss… the happiest time of her life… a true fools’ paradise! She had flourished during those four years like never before and never after. Her peculiar looks did not seem to matter on the Western Coast– not on campus anyway. The Lannisport University was so international people of all sorts roamed about. No one cared how ugly she was! All they cared about were her skills– by all means, her acting aptitudes were beyond reproach. She became a shining star among students and faculty members alike. She was a real prodigy! Life was good– the future was promising.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Her ephemeral dreams came crashing down as soon as she graduated. It took her less than a whole year to understand that University had been a closed elitist bubble, within which other rules applied.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The truth was simple and cruel: in the film and entertainment industry, there was no place for someone looking like her!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Rejections– fails– rejections– fails– fails– fails– fails and a million doors slammed in her ugly face. No matter how hard she tried she could not land a decent role. Once her appearance came into the equation, no one cared how good an actress she was! Exceptional talent could not be believed on such an ugly face!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It was the likes of Cersei Lannister that the industry craved for– a carcass beautiful beyond words. A heavenly creature made human. Could she act? Not even to save her life! Did she shoot three films a year and did she get hundreds of auditions every month? Without fail!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Unlike his twin, Jaime was a competent actor– sometimes even a great one. But even his skills screamed ‘daytime television’ when put on the same stage or set with Brienne. And yet he was a rising star!… a promising talent!… a Westie Awards material!... whereas she was mostly stuck in low budget, dark alley productions… and now shameful charity, because of him!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Brienne groaned in frustration, prompting an eye roll from Jaime. Just that– an eye roll, he was past the point of bothering himself with her moods. And she could not blame him…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>For nearing ten years, she had tried relentlessly to build herself an acting career. In all this time, she managed to work on less than four projects she was not ashamed to talk about. By small degrees she was forced to retreat back to her beloved University– a seminar here, a workshop there… now she was a full-time assistant professor. In other words, instead of building her own opportunities, she was helping others take them away from her… one audition at a time.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Brie– my love…” He eventually whispered. “Please stop…” Jaime understood all too well what thoughts troubled her mind, for he’s been her only anchor all along. Their friendship had been forged by fire– quite literally. They’d barely escaped from the burning chalet of a summer school gone wrong. He had saved her first, nearly losing the utility of his right hand in the process. Then she saved him, earning the scars on her chest and left shoulder. They were inseparable ever since– rivals to friends to lovers… so much history she could not even begin to recount it! </em>
  <em>A movie could be made about their story…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>For which she most likely would not get the part of ‘herself’! Not unless Jaime made them give it to her…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Brienne looked at the castle's gate before them. They would soon be there and the farce would begin…</em>
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</p><p><em>Awaiting at Casterly Rock was the worldwide premiere of  </em>A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms’<em> fourth season– the most awarded TV show in the history of Westeros. Jaime was one of the leads as he played the main antagonist– a ruthless King in all his medieval glory. This new season she was a part of the phenomenon too… as a role had been fashioned out of thin air, only for her, at Jaime's explicit request.</em></p><p>
  
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  <em>Little wonder that she was unable to feel any happiness while walking the red carpet holding hands with her golden lion. She felt like a hideous fraud in a designer gown… </em>
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  <em>The whole event was a blur as she brooded in her own misery.</em>
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  <em>“My question is for Miss Tarth–” The reporter’s voice startled her. Quite frankly she had not expected to be asked anything during the press conference. After all, her character was still a mystery for everyone. Yet a pretty young lady took a chance nonetheless. “It is no secret that you and Jaime Lannister have a long dating record, three years at least– hence I am asking this on behalf of all women on the planet. How serious is your relationship? Any wedding bells in the near future or do the rest of us still have cause for hope?”</em>
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  <em>Brienne burst into laughter– it was all she could do as her blood heated up in revolt. She wished to put the indiscreet reporter in her place, to teach her a lesson about what was proper and what was offensive to ask women during professional interviews. Her tongue was itching to hiss for all to hear that Jaime Lannister was hers and hers alone... but more than anything, her heart urged her to scream at the top of her lungs that she was not a male costar's prop, no matter who that costar was!</em>
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  <em>Yet who would have believed her? After all, she had basically been couch cast in that show…</em>
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  <em>So Brienne did what she knew best– she self-sabotaged: “You and all other women on the planet can keep your hopes alive– there is nothing serious between us. Three years and counting, but I am still expecting him to walk out any day. Wedding bells are out of any question.”</em>
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  <em>As soon as the foul words left her mouth, she realised her gaffe. But it was too late to change her answer… and deep down she wasn’t all that sure she hadn’t meant what she said. She didn’t dare to look at Jaime, though. And, with the corner of an eye, she noticed some of their colleagues shifting uncomfortably in their seats. It fell on another reporter to clear the air and save the day, by asking Sansa Stark a decent question.</em>
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  <em>Somehow, by the time they made it to the afterparty– held just down the hall, in the grand ballroom of Casterly Rock– Jaime was already piss-drunk. He grunted some excuses and left her all by herself while he went to look for his sweet sister– who was well known for never missing a posh party. </em>
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  <em>After downing two shots, Brienne started to mingle– anything being better than to stand on the dancing rink alone. And the night slowly passed with Jaime never returning to her side.</em>
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  <em>“Brienne– good Gods, my dear!” Margaery and Sansa cornered her on the way back from the restroom. It couldn't have been later than midnight. “What were you thinking with that answer?” </em>
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  <em>“It was heartless– and I say this as a Northerner!”</em>
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  <em>“No, it was not…” Brienne sighed, shaking her head. “It was only the truth, I might as well get used to the thought. Try as we may, the day will come when Jaime will realise the nonsense our relationship is and will leave me for someone looking more like the two of you…” Margaery blinked rapidly several times, while Sansa clenched her teeth, offended. “Don’t give me those looks of 'poor pretty girls'. I love Jaime, but…”</em>
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  <em>Suddenly, Margaery’s hand gripped her burnt shoulder and Brienne nearly screeched in phantom pain. “Go, Brienne– go now! Save your relationship if there is anything left to save.” Her dearest new friend forced her to turn around, just in time to see Jaime leaving in a fury.</em>
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  <em>“Seven Hells!” Brienne cursed. There was no doubt he had heard her words a second time. “Jaime– Jaime…!” Although she was too overwhelmed to notice the belle of the ball standing a few feet away beside her father, Brienne did hear Cersei hissing as she passed her by:</em>
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  <em>“Good-sister of mine, it is so easy to get rid of you when you’re doing all the work for us! The Lannisters send their regards!”</em>
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</p><p>“Jaime, please, put that suitcase down and hear me out!” She pleaded with tears in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“There is nothing left to say– you’ve said more than enough, Brienne.” Jaime tried to move past her, but she placed both hands on his shoulders, trying to hold him in place.</p><p> </p><p>“No– no– no… don’t leave!” This time she truly begged, voice trembling and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Stay here– stay with me… please! Stay…”</p><p> </p><p>“You made me believe I was a good man– you made me believe <em>you</em> believed I was one. How naïve I am!” He could feel his heart shattering within his chest. “I foolishly worried and complained about being typecast as a villain by the industry– without even realising the woman I love sees me as nothing more than just that!” He chuckled in spite of himself. “So, you’ve been waiting for me to leave you for someone better looking? That’s what you said– is it not? You expect me to walk out any day…” Smiling a sad smile, he looked deep into her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime…” Brienne shook her hand, trying desperately to stop him.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, my love– this is me walking out. Move aside and don’t make me push you! Like the true villain I am, I swear I would.” Slowly but surely, something began to snap inside him. It was over ten years since he had last been cruel to her, but now he felt the need to repay her earlier <em>kindness</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“You are not a villain, Jaime!” With a brusque gesture, he did push her out of his way– just to make a point.</p><p> </p><p>“No! No! No!” She grabbed one of his arms with both hands. “You cannot leave! This is your apartment…”</p><p> </p><p>“I am not about to kick you out in the streets in the middle of the night.” Jaime jerked his arm off her grip and turned on his heels to look at her. Their eyes met– sapphires drowned in tears and emeralds burning like wildfire. “Mark my words carefully, Brienne Tarth– you have one week to get lost! Take every damned item you possess out of my house! Scrub all surfaces with your toothbrush if you have to, for I don’t want to find a fingerprint of yours around when I return– not a single string of straw blond hair on my carpets! Remove all traces of your existence from my life– or I swear to all Gods that I will make you regret the day you saved my life. Are we understood?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime…” She mouthed his name, but no sound left her trembling lips. As he walked to the entrance, Brienne remained there like a frozen statue behind him, unable to move. It wasn't until his hand twisted the front door's knob that, all of a sudden, she was on him again– determined to not give in.</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime…” Her voice like a soft plea sent shivers down his spine. “It's the dead of the night, where are you going…”</p><p> </p><p>Overwhelmed by the once familiar feeling of self-hatred, which now seemed to resurface from the depths of his being with a vengeance, Jaime turned to look at her. Slowly, he lifted her trembling chin with his fire-scarred right hand, passing his index over her lips– so wet from all the crying. </p><p> </p><p>“I am going to take your advice, my love.” Leaning in, Jaime pressed his mouth on hers to taste the salt. He parted her lips with his tongue and kissed her with all he had for one last time. She sobbed painfully when he broke away from her, but he smiled maliciously, gazing into her eyes. “I will find myself a doll to fuck into oblivion until the break of dawn. Petite and slim and beautiful, with round delicious breasts, a tiny waist, and a little curved arse– just the way you picture her in your worst nightmares.” And with that, he left.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello again... hating me much yet?<br/>Looking forward to hearing what you think of this chapter. Xx</p>
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